


the masterpiece that is you

by jaemarked



Category: NCT (Band), Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Misunderstandings, See notes for content warnings, Strangers to Lovers, Writer!Mark, model!hyunjin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 07:48:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28467795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaemarked/pseuds/jaemarked
Summary: “I’m Mark,” the guy said, and he gave an adorable little half-smile. “Do you maybe wanna sit down?”He shouldn’t. He really, really shouldn’t. He had to be up early, and it was such a bad idea considering he already thought about Mark often from short encounters. Mark was a distraction, something Hyunjin couldn’t afford.And yet, he sat down anyway.
Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin/Mark Lee (NCT)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 36





	the masterpiece that is you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hwanghyunjin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hwanghyunjin/gifts).



> whoa i can't believe it's here! part one of one of the rarest pairs i could think of, but apparently not the first in the tag which is interesting. honestly don't take this fic seriously because i just put two of my best boys together in a pairing and went yup that seems good. but we are getting a lot of nct x skz content lately...
> 
> CONTENT WARNINGS:
> 
> Hyunjin is a model, and therefore talks a lot about weight loss, weight maintenance, dieting, etc. He has unhealthy habits, but he is not inherently unhealthy. However, if this is something you cannot handle, please don't force yourself to read this fic!
> 
> He also talks about the predatory nature of older men and women in the industry in great detail. There is no mentions of rape/non-con but it does get pretty uncomfortable (e.g. adults hitting on underage characters). If this is also not your cup of tea, I would advise you to turn back now!
> 
> If you're still here, this story isn't as dark as those warnings made them seem and everything happened in the past, I just needed to make sure that everyone knows what's in the story before proceeding.
> 
> Thanks for giving this fic a chance, and I'll see you in part two.

**thebookwitch:**

_As you all know, I’m a big fan of Mark Lee. His stories are beautiful — whimsical and lighthearted, great for curling up in bed with a cup of tea and not moving for hours. But I have to say, I’d be interested to see his stories take a darker approach. His characters are lovely, but I want to see them with a deeper past. I’d like to see him write stories about characters who have been knocked down by life again and again. Something more raw. What do you think?_

**407,894 notes**

> **↳ andreil-lover:**
> 
> You know what, I’ve never really considered it before but I would also love to see that. In “Yellow Coat, Red Umbrella”, Haechan clearly has a troubling past, but it’s not really touched upon. He writes happiness so well, I feel like he could write angst even better. Mark’s best trait when it comes to writing is the ability to make you feel what his characters feel, and I kinda want him to make me cry.
> 
> **↳ regular-irregular:**
> 
> I discussed this in a previous blog post, but I absolutely agree! I think if Mark Lee ever wrote a novel with darker themes, I’d have to buy a hundred copies and give them to my friends. Only thing better than a great author is a great author willing to try things out of their comfort zone.

_MARK_.

“I’m stuck.”

Mark slumped back into his seat, scowling into his coffee. He had gotten a caffè mocha for the caffeine, but it was already rapidly cooling as Johnny, his manager, looked over the draft for his first chapter.

“You know you literally just published a book three weeks ago, right? Why are you so concerned about writing a new one already?” Johnny asked, eyes kind. Mark loved having Johnny as his manager. He’d heard stories of mean or strict managers that would hound their authors for drafts, but Johnny was patient and encouraging. And _really_ good at getting Mark deadline extensions. “Have you thought about the book tour, by the way?”

Mark sighed and rubbed his eyes behind his glasses. Johnny had asked him to meet at the cafe earlier this morning, but he was up late the night before, trying to write a new novel. “I dunno, Johnny, it just doesn’t seem like my thing.”

Mark’s publisher wanted him to go on a book signing tour in the states, but the thought of travelling that much gave him anxiety. He loved his fans, and he was grateful for his readers, but spending two months signing hundreds of books wasn’t really ideal for him.

“I’ll keep thinking about it, though,” Mark added when Johnny deflated. “I just — I feel like this isn’t the right book for it, you know?”

Johnny frowned. “Why? Do you not like _Whatever The Weather?_ ”

“I mean, it’s not like I’m not proud of it,” Mark said weakly, “I just feel like it’s not my best.”

“It sold a million copies on the first day of release,” Johnny deadpanned, and Mark flushed, sinking lower in his seat and whining. “Okay, okay, I know that’s not what you mean. I get it. So what you’re saying is, you’d be willing to do a book tour in the future?”

“Yeah!” Mark straightened up. “Like, I know this is just the bare bones of my next book, but I wanted to try…”

“Something darker?” Johnny finished, and when Mark nodded, he looked contemplative. “Have you tried drawing from your own experiences?”

Mark sighed. “I mean, my life has been pretty normal. Like, sure I’ve had some tough times, but really nothing worth writing about. I’ve been super lucky.”

“Draw from someone else’s then,” Johnny suggested. Mark just stared at him until he elaborated. “Go outside. Travel. Meet people and hear their stories.”

“I hate travelling though,” Mark sulked, drinking the last of his mocha. Johnny leaned over with a napkin and wiped at his chin despite Mark’s protests as he tried squirming away. “Hey, stop, you’re embarrassing me!”

“You’re embarrassing me by being messy!” Johnny said with a laugh. “I know you hate travelling. Maybe you can stay long term in one place. It’ll be like a vacation.”

“I don’t need a vacation, I need to work,” Mark said with a groan.

Johnny’s smile faded. “Mark, you’ve been working so hard. You’ve published two novels in the past year and a half, and you haven’t taken a vacation since your first book came out. You’re only twenty three, no need to run yourself ragged before you become old like me.”

“You’re not old, Johnny, you’re twenty eight,” Mark said distractedly. He didn’t know how to explain the pressure he felt. His first book had gotten published straight out of high school and had done pretty well, but it was his second and third book that had accelerated his career and journey to fame. His fourth and most recent book had been the one that launched him into the spotlight, selling a million copies on the first day and eighteen million within the first week. Already, he knew that his next book would have to be amazing in order to keep him relevant. It was hard to get people to take him seriously when he was so young, and he was lucky that the Moon&Kim Book Group took a chance on him. He didn’t want that luck to run out.

“I’m just saying.” Mark tuned back in just in time to hear Johnny say. “I really feel like you would benefit from it. You can’t write about experiences you don’t have. And you should give your brain some time to rest. Relax and recuperate, you know?”

“Okay,” Mark said finally.

Johnny paused, his mouth dropping open a little. “Okay?”

“I said okay,” Mark repeated, cheeks pinking. “I’ll do it. Can you help me book the ticket?”

“Absolutely. Where do you want to go?” Johnny was already pulling out his phone, no doubt texting his editor, Taeyong, and his agent, Doyoung.

“Anywhere. Just surprise me.”

_HYUNJIN_.

Hyunjin was practically half-asleep in the chair when Minho began lecturing him about getting more rest. It was funny how angry Minho was, since he was still gently wiping the makeup off of Hyunjin’s face.

“You need to sleep more,” Minho insisted as he used a Q-tip to carefully remove Hyunjin’s eyeliner.

“Sure,” Hyunjin replied, accidentally-on-purpose yawning in Minho’s face. He often made empty promises like this to his best friend, who also functioned as his stylist and manager. _Yes, Minho, I’ll sleep more. Yes, I’ll eat a full meal when I get home. No, I’m not tired. No, I don’t feel sick._ He knew they were lies, and Minho knew they were lies, but neither of them would acknowledge it out loud.

Minho had been there from the start, when Hyunjin began modeling as a kid. Their parents were best friends, and they’d grown up next door from each other. Minho had been there when his mom forced him through auditions, had been there when he actually passed them all. He was there when Hyunjin began modeling for clothing brands, and ended up on the covers of magazines. Minho was the only one Hyunjin trusted to take care of him.

“I’m gonna drive you home, okay?”

Hyunjin opened his eyes at that. “Don’t bother, I’ll take a taxi.”

“Hyunjin…”

He got up from the chair, vision momentarily greying at the edges from standing up too fast, but he managed to find his bag and jacket after a couple seconds.

“I’ll be fine,” Hyunjin said before Minho could insist on driving him home. “My place is like, twenty minutes from here, and you live on the other side of the city.”

“You should let me do things for you,” Minho said with a sigh, but he eventually relented and allowed Hyunjin to go on his own, though he trailed behind him as he walked to the front doors of the studio. “Remember you have the shoot with Allure tomorrow morning at seven, so make sure you wake up by—“

“By five,” Hyunjin finished, “I know the drill. I promise I’ll wake up on time. Now go home to your boyfriend.”

Minho’s lips quirked at the mention of his boyfriend, Chan, but he still waited until Hyunjin was in the backseat of the cab before heading to his own car.

Hyunjin leaned his head against the window after telling the driver his address. Luckily, she seemed to sense that he wasn’t in the mood for conversation, so he could stare out of the window for the entirety of the drive. He thought about the countless times he’s been in this position before — taking a cab home to his empty apartment after a long day of shooting. He was sure that was the reason Minho often came with him, but he hated taking his friend away from his boyfriend, who he rarely got to see most days.

It wasn’t Minho’s fault that Hyunjin was lonely.

He thanked the taxi driver once they pulled up to his apartment, making sure to tip her extra, before hauling himself past the security desk and into the elevator, punching in the code for his floor. He pushed open the door to his empty, silent apartment and fell into bed. He should have done his skincare routine, but his eyelids were already heavy, so he yanked the covers over his head and shut his eyes.

He didn’t even bother turning on the lights.

_MARK_.

“So, where are you going?”

Donghyuck was sprawled on the couch, not even looking at Mark, but it kind of felt like he could see all of Mark anyway. That was the problem with best friends -- it seemed like they knew everything about you before you could even tell them.

“Paris,” Mark replied, and waited until Donghyuck stopped laughing before he continued with, “Johnny picked it for me.”

“Mark Lee in Paris, who would’ve thought.” Donghyuck sat up and wiped his eyes dramatically, though Mark wouldn’t be surprised if he had actually laughed until he cried. “No offence but you just don’t seem like the type.”

“I can appreciate culture!” Mark squawked.

“You hate sightseeing,” Donghyuck replied, “you don’t like museums or galleries or architecture. You can’t even eat fancy Parisian food because you have a sensitive stomach.”

“I like that stuff,” Mark protested, “I just don’t have time.”

Donghyuck shook his head, and when Mark walked past the couch, he reached out and grabbed his arm, yanking him down into a painful cuddle. Mark struggled for a minute, but Donghyuck just wrapped around him like a boa constrictor, so Mark gave up and allowed himself to be held.

“I’m just teasing, I’m glad that you’re taking a vacation for once. Even though you’re gonna be working, still. Seriously, don’t you know the meaning of rest?”

“You’re one to talk,” Mark scoffed, tipping his head onto Donghyuck’s shoulder. “You’ve been touring all year.”

“Listen, if _the_ Lee Taemin asks you to dance backup for him on his world tour, you don’t say no,” Donghyuck replied, one hand coming up to pet Mark's hair. He did that often, like Mark was his dog or something, but it felt nice so Mark couldn’t really complain. “I’m looking forward to Japan though.”

“You’re doing, like, sixteen shows right? That’s crazy, dude. I’ll see if I can come watch one.”

“I bet you’re gonna be too busy finding love in Paris.”

“That is _not_ what this trip is about!” Mark’s face was burning. “I’m just trying to find a muse.”

“Well find yourself some good dick while you’re at it, you haven’t gotten laid in forever and trust me, honey, you need it. You can only deal with your right hand for so long,” Donghyuck teased, and Mark punched him in the shoulder as hard as he could, which admittedly was not that hard. He hadn’t been to the gym in a while. “Ow! Jeez, you’re so annoying. Just for that, I’m not gonna help you pack.”

“Wait, no!” Mark whined immediately. “I need your help so I don’t like a disaster. Isn’t Paris like the capital of fashion or something? Don’t let me embarrass myself.”

“Fine,” Donghyuck sniffed, “but only because I don’t want to be associated with someone who can’t dress. Let’s see what you have in your closet.” Donghyuck grabbed his arm and pulled him off the couch, then traipsed into his bedroom to raid his wardrobe while Mark sat on the bed and tried not to feel offended when Donghyuck criticized his dismal variety of clothing. “Ooh, this top is nice.”

He pulled out a half-mesh, half silk button up that Mark didn’t even know he had. “Isn’t it gonna be kinda cold?”

“No such thing as cold in fashion, Mark,” Donghyuck said dismissively. “Where are those pinstripe slacks you wore to that conference in July?”

“Um…” Mark blanched when Donghyuck swung a wild glare in his direction. “I think in the dresser!” Donghyuck crossed the bedroom and yanked open the drawer, sorting through Mark’s pants and jeans.

“These are cute! Why don’t you wear these?” Donghyuck asked, pulling out a pair of checkered slacks.

“They’re too tight on my ass,” Mark admitted, and Donghyuck sighed.

“What’s the point of all that cake if you’re not gonna use it, Mark?” He didn’t bother giving Donghyuck a reply, and sprawled on the bed watching as Donghyuck systematically went through all of his clothes, managing to put together an entire wardrobe and folding it neatly into his suitcase. It seemed like touring had given Donghyuck incredible packing skills. “So where are you going to be staying? An AirBnB?”

“Ah, no. The company’s paying for my hotel room,” Mark said excitedly.

“Exciting. They must have pulled some strings.”

“What do you mean?”

Donghyuck gave him a bewildered look. “Well, it’s fashion week in Paris.”

Mark paled. “Um, what’s that?”

“Jesus, Mark, really? What planet are you from?” When Mark didn’t answer, Donghyuck just rolled his eyes. “It’s basically like a series of fashion events held by designers and big brands like Dior and Chanel to show off their collections. It’s a big deal, it’s hard to get hotel rooms around this time. People usually book, like, a month in advance.”

“Oh.” Mark hadn’t known. It was already a big deal that Johnny convinced the company to pay for his entire trip, he hadn’t thought that he would be going during a huge event.

“Mark Lee, I swear to god if you don’t hook up with a model, you are not allowed to step foot inside this house again!” Donghyuck leapt onto the bed, and Mark shrieked when he dug his fingers into his side, desperately squirming away. He grabbed a pillow from the top of the bed and started smacking Donghyuck with it, only to receive a pillow to the face when Donghyuck managed to grab a hold of one too.

They wrestled for a few more minutes but eventually cried for a truce when they couldn’t stop laughing, tears streaming down their faces as Donghyuck collapsed breathlessly beside Mark, holding his stomach.

“Don’t just stay cooped up in your hotel room, okay? Do some actual sightseeing. Go out there and meet people.”

“Everyone keeps saying that,” Mark said, hugging his pillow to his chest.

Donghyuck snorted. “That’s because we know what’s best for you.”

_HYUNJIN._

Minho showed up at Hyunjin’s door with a cup of coffee and a grim smile. It was four in the morning and they needed to be at the airport before Hyunjin’s flight at seven. Hyunjin grabbed the coffee and chugged half of it, ignoring his scalding tongue in favor of caffeine.

“Slow down, you can sleep on the plane.”

“You know I can’t.” Hyunjin said, because despite the nice business class seats that Dior had generously given them, he could never fall asleep on planes, though he could usually fall asleep anywhere. It was something about flying thousands of feet in the air that made him so anxious he couldn’t even nap.

“I worry about you,” Minho sighed, but Hyunjin just grabbed his suitcase and his backpack and shut his apartment door, following Minho down to the taxi waiting outside for them. Hyunjin slipped in his earphones before Minho could lecture him, shoving his luggage into the backseat and climbing in after. He let Minho chat with the talkative cab driver and rested his head against the window as they pulled away from the apartment. He wasn’t looking forward to the eleven hour plane ride, and airports exhausted him, but he was grateful that Minho was distracting the driver so he could sleep a little on the way to the airport.

“Let me carry your bags,” Minho insisted once they arrived at the airport, and Hyunjin let him take the suitcase without much fuss, though he held onto his backpack. By the time they reached their boarding gate, he was practically dead on his feet. “Should be like thirty more minutes. Don’t fall asleep, okay? You’re impossible to wake up.”

“Sorry,” Hyunjin mumbled, though he wasn’t very sorry. He passed the time by listening to Minho talk about a book he read recently. Something about red umbrellas. He didn’t really understand the plot, but listening to Minho ramble was both comforting and familiar.

“We’ll have to get you some breakfast,” Minho said once they were seated on the plane. He scowled when a lady brushed past and knocked him in the head, and Hyunjin was grateful that Minho had given him the window seat. “Make sure you eat well, okay? You’ll need the energy.”

“Okay,” Hyunjin replied dutifully, and Minho smiled at him. He felt guilty when he immediately turned on the screen after the safety instructions, but Minho didn’t seem to mind when he plugged in his headphones and turned on a movie to distract himself. He held Minho’s hand when the plane took off, and continued holding it until the ending credits of the movie played and Minho was fast asleep in the seat beside him. “Fuck, I’m bored.”

That was the worst part about travelling. He loved sightseeing, and visiting tourist attractions whenever he had the time. He liked his job, most days. He liked meeting people and trying new things but he _hated_ travel time. Especially when there was nothing he wanted to do at the moment except sleep, but he couldn’t even do that.

“Oh, shit,” he heard someone say from behind him, just as a purple pen rolled down the aisle and stopped next to his seat. Hyunjin bent down and picked it up, smiling a little when he saw the kitty topper before turning around. Where he expected a kid or teen, he was met with a good-looking guy around his age.

“I think you dropped this,” Hyunjin heard himself say, holding out the pen. The guy had sharp cheekbones and messy blond hair, though Hyunjin was more drawn by his eyes. They were huge and shiny, like a puppy’s, behind thick lenses.

“Thanks, man.” The guy reached out and their fingers brushed as he took back his pen. Hyunjin wondered if he was a model, but the thought went away when he noticed the guy’s skin. It was dotted with tiny scars and a small spattering of acne, though that did nothing to take away from his overall appearance. He was dressed in a sweater vest and baggy jeans. Maybe some kind of journalist.

“No problem,” Hyunjin replied, flushing a little when he realized he was staring. He didn’t know exactly why the guy had caught his attention — he saw attractive people every day, including his own best friend currently snoring away in the seat next to him.

 _I must be really tired,_ Hyunjin thought, but as he leaned back in his seat and shut his eyes, he couldn’t get the image of the guy’s smile when he took back his pen out of his mind.

_MARK._

Mark had only been in Paris for a few hours, but he was already feeling overwhelmed. After losing one of his suitcases at the baggage claim (it had been taken by someone else, but luckily he realized really quickly) and getting rammed into with one of the luggage carts, he had immediately gotten a cab straight to his hotel. There was an issue with his room, and he had to wait for half an hour before the mix-up had been solved and he could go crash.

He dragged himself into the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth, then immediately face planted into the bed. It was nearly four in the morning, and if he didn’t want to suffer from jet lag, he’d have to wake up at nine or ten, then force himself to stay awake for the rest of the day.

He set several alarms, then crawled under the covers and shoved his face into the pillow, but despite his exhaustion, sleep didn’t come. When the minutes turned into an hour, he resigned himself to a ruined start to his vacation and pushed himself up out of bed.

He found his laptop, plugged it in, and opened up his email. There wasn’t much, just a couple emails from Taeyong with suggestions on where to go, and an email forwarded by Johnny from the company that basically said Mark was allowed to do a book signing tour after the release of his next book, rather than the last one, which was nice but stressful. He felt even more pressure to make this his best work yet, but he wasn’t sure if he would be able to. Sure, he could try sticking to writing what he was good at, but how long would that last? How long until his stories became predictable and boring? He’d already seen some negative reviews on _Whatever The Weather,_ though Johnny told him not to go looking. His readers wanted him to write something deep. He had to be ready to dive in.

Mark opened up his document for his latest book, the one he had shown Johnny at the cafe, but his mouth downturned when he read over what he had, and realized that he would need to scrap this idea. He didn’t feel excited about it, and honestly, his main character was kind of boring.

He opened a new document, but as the cursor blinked on the screen, nothing came to him. He couldn’t think of a single plot, not even a setting. He had no idea what to write about.

 _Write about your experiences,_ Johnny had told him. Mark closed his eyes and remembered the flight here. Thought of flying above the clouds, and how pretty the sky looked when the sun rose. And remembered the prettiest person he’d ever seen, handing him back his pen.

He opened his eyes and began to write.

Mark woke up to a cotton taste in his mouth and sunlight shining directly in his face. He sat up groggily and nearly knocked his laptop off the bed where he had discarded it sometime this morning. He frantically turned it on and relief rushed through him when his document was still there and his work had automatically saved.

Forcing himself out of bed, the first thing he did was close the curtains to his room, sighing with relief when the blinding light was blocked out. He glanced at the clock at the bedside table and grimaced when he realized it was already two in the afternoon. He wandered into the bathroom, brushing his teeth and washing his face with the cleanser that Donghyuck had gifted him before he left.

He found his glasses on the night table and shoved them on, then dressed himself in one of the more casual outfits Donghyuck had picked for him, a pastel purple sweater and artfully ripped white jeans. He fitted a white cap over his bed head and left his room, heading downstairs. He was saddened by the fact that he missed breakfast, but the receptionist recommended a nearby cafe for lunch.

Mark stepped outside and sighed at the warm weather, pushing up the sleeves of his sweater as he walked down the street and admired the colorful storefronts. He found the cafe that the receptionist mentioned, and a bell tinkled when he pushed open the door.

“ _Bienvenue!_ ” The cashier greeted him. _“Qu’est-ce que vous voulez commander?”_

He blanked. The French he had learned in high school was rudimentary at best, since he had only taken it for a year. He tried desperately to remember how to ask for a sandwich when the cashier grinned at him.

“Or, would you prefer English?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m sorry,” Mark said, flushing. “Probably should have brushed up on my French before I came here.”

“Don’t apologize,” one of the baristas said. “Jaemin is just a jerk that likes to play pranks on people he knows are tourists. I keep telling him it’s not gonna get him any tips.”

The cashier, Jaemin, just laughed before turning back to Mark. His smile was dazzling, and Mark found himself both captivated and slightly unnerved. “Anyway, what can I get for you?”

Mark quickly scanned the menu. “Can I get a medium caffè mocha and a grilled cheese special?”

“Yup, that’ll be $7.50,” Jaemin said, and Mark examined the bank notes in his wallet until he found the ten. He was used to colored money since he grew up in Canada, but living in the States all their money was the same. Not to mention that the bills were completely different colors than Canada’s.

He dropped his change into the tip jar next to the register and took the number that Jaemin handed him, wandering over to a free table and sitting down. He watched some of the other patrons and made up stories for them. The smartly dressed girl in the corner with the laptop was a business student. The boys at the counter were athletes on their way home from a game. The woman at the table next to him was a tired mother taking a break from caring for her kids. He got distracted by the Rilakkuma keychain dangling from her purse and almost didn’t notice the barista from earlier bringing him his order.

“Thank you,” Mark said automatically, then, “I mean, _merci._ Should probably practice my French.”

The barista smiled brightly at him, making him feel better about being so awkward. He was surely making a fool of himself, but it helped that the barista seemed to find it amusing. He took a sip of his drink, relishing in the sweet and rich flavor, before taking out his notebook and a pen and jotting down a few notes about the cafe in case he planned to use it in the future.

_Time itself seems to stop in this cafe, and every patron seems just a little bit magical. Like the second they walked through the door, a spell was cast on them. Even the workers behind the counter were all oh-so-charming, their enchanting smiles drawing you in..._

He wrote about Jaemin, and the weird paintings on the wall, and the group of boys that had moved from the counter to one of the tables, and even though he didn't think he was going to be using any of these, he still felt good about himself for writing. Mark finally remembered his sandwich as he scribbled his last line, and though it was cold, it was still delicious -- grilled cheese with roasted red pepper and a thick slice of ham.

He was about to go up to the counter for a refill when someone walked past his table, bumping into one of the chairs. He looked up and nearly choked on the last of his drink when he realized who it was — the gorgeous guy from the airplane. He looked like a model about to walk the runway instead of an ordinary customer. Mark couldn't help but stare at the way his long, flowing white button up swayed slightly as he walked up to the counter.

"Oh my god," he whispered to himself, ducking his head down when he realized he had spoken aloud. He scolded himself for being creepy and staring, resolving to return to his notebook. He ate the last bite of his sandwich and scribbled down as many vague ideas for plots as he could think of, and almost didn't realize someone was standing at his table until they cleared their throat.

"Hi," the guy from the airplane said quietly when Mark looked up. "Do you mind if I sit here? I promise I won't get in your way."

Mark glanced around and realized the entire cafe had filled with people while he was writing, and his table was the only one with any available seats. He immediately felt guilty about taking up a four person table and quickly cleared his things so the guy could sit.

"Sorry about that," Mark said, and the guy shook his head. He waited to see if he would say anything else, but the other man was already scrolling through his phone with his cup in his other hand. Mark wondered what kind of coffee this man drank. A fancy latte, maybe. Something elegant like the fingers wrapped around the sleeve of the cup.

He didn’t know what he was hoping for, as he idly wrote about pale skin and petal pink lips and pretty hands holding paper cups, but he didn’t expect for them to sit in complete silence.

He practically rolled his eyes at himself. _Don’t be stupid. Did you think he would be interested in you? He just wanted a seat._

He was about to just say fuck it and go home when he looked up and his breath caught in his throat when he saw the way the sunlight through the cafe window illuminated Airplane Guy’s profile, the light catching on his hair and making it look like a halo. Mark had seen a lot of great-looking people in his life. His friends were all attractive, and he met beautiful celebrities all the time.

“Can I help you?” Mark broke out of his daze and realized with horror that he had been staring. Airplane Guy had him fixed with a blank look, and he could feel his cheeks and ears heating up.

“I’m sorry,” Mark blurted out. “It’s just that… the lighting… you look really good.” He finished lamely, then immediately buried his face in his hands. “Sorry, ignore me.”

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but when Airplane Guy’s lips flattened into a thin line, he immediately began to panic.

“Um! I’m not—not trying to hit on you or anything. I just—sorry, I probably crossed a line there. Um, just ignore me, sorry.” He immediately began gathering his things, his face flaming.

Airplane Guy regarded him for another moment, then tossed his head back and _laughed._ The sound rendered Mark frozen in his spot. If he thought the man was attractive before, it was nothing compared to now.

“You apologize a lot,” the man observed.

“Yeah, haha.” Mark rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Anyway, I’ll be going now. Sorry to bother you!” He didn’t bother waiting for a reply before he hightailed it out of there, his hands shaking. God, he was so dumb. How did he manage to embarrass himself in front of the most gorgeous guy he’s ever met?

Airplane Guy was probably a model, Mark thought as he made his way back to the hotel. Here for the fashion week. He had the sudden fantasy of getting Airplane Guy’s number and maybe meeting him for coffee, and immediately scolded himself.

 _Don't be creepy_ , he thought. He hoped that Airplane Guy didn't think he was a creep. He probably got compliments like that all the time, but that didn't make it any less weird. He probably thought Mark was a weirdo.

Mark blushed all the way back to the hotel, then locked himself in his room and yanked out his laptop, settling in to binge Full Metal Alchemist for the third time. He'd had enough of meeting people today, and he was too humiliated to try again. But after a few episodes, he began to feel restless again, and opened up his document from last night.

He found himself writing about a beautiful profile illuminated by sunshine through a cafe window. He wrote about delicate hands and elegant lattes in paper cups. He wrote about augite eyes and rose petal lips until he blinked and found that the sun had already set and he hadn't looked away from his screen once.

Groaning, Mark stretched out his back and placed his laptop on the bedside table, reaching for the lamp and switching it on. He could practically hear Johnny scolding him for his bad posture and poor grasp of ergonomics, but he didn't care. He finally had some semblance of a first chapter, and that was all that mattered to him. It was nothing but fragments of an idea, but it was something, and he actually felt pretty damn good about it.

He was contemplating ordering room service when his phone lit up with a FaceTime call from Donghyuck. Grinning, Mark plugged his phone into the charger and answered the call, laughing when Donghyuck's disgruntled face filled the screen. He was talking to someone else on the line and clearly hadn't noticed Mark had answered.

"Oh, hi!" Donghyuck exclaimed when his eyes fell on the screen.

"Hi, Hyuckie," Mark replied, propping himself up on the pillows. "What are you doing?"

"Well, I just got out of class because it's, like, eleven AM here," Donghyuck answered, and Mark realized that he was walking around his campus. "I'm with Yangyang right now, he says hi. Just thought I'd see how your first day in Paris went."

"Ask him if he's had a baguette," he heard Yangyang say, but Donghyuck ignored him.

"I mostly slept," Mark admitted. "I got in late and started writing until the sun rose, then slept in most of the day. I did check out this super nice cafe and I had an awesome grilled cheese. It was so fancy."

"You're so boring," Donghyuck complained, "but I guess I'll let it slide since you're probably jet lagged. Do something interesting tomorrow, or else."

"Or else what? You're gonna jump on a plane to Paris and fight me?" Mark teased, pulling his covers over his legs. It was always nice talking to his best friend, and even though Mark had only been gone for a day, he definitely missed him. If Donghyuck didn't have classes, Mark probably would have dragged him along.

"Bitch I just might," Donghyuck said. "Go check out an art gallery or something. Go to the Louvre."

Mark crinkled his nose. "There's too many tourists, I dunno if I'd like it. But I promise I will do something. I'll even send you pictures as proof."

"You better," Donghyuck sniffed haughtily, then looked away when Yangyang started yelling. Mark couldn't make out the words, but he watched as Donghyuck's eyes widened comically. "Uh, Mark, I gotta go. Lucas fell down a flight of stairs."

"Shit, man, hope he's okay. Keep me updated, yeah?" Mark said, and Donghyuck nodded once before hanging up, though Mark heard Yangyang shouting goodbye right before the call ended. It made him smile — his friends were so fucking ridiculous, but they cared about him a lot. He wondered if he should tell Donghyuck about Airplane Guy, but decided against it. It was too embarrassing.

Besides, it wasn't like Mark was gonna see him again.

_HYUNJIN_.

"What do you think of this?"

Minho held up a hooded anorak with a map print, and Hyunjin contemplated it carefully. "Yeah, I like it. Is that all they gave us?"

"Nah, we got a few shirts, some pants, this bag, and these two pairs of shoes," Minho said, rummaging through the stuff that Dior had left in their hotel room for Hyunjin. Walking in Dior's F/W show was a lot of pressure, but Hyunjin had to admit the gifts were nice. He was pretty sure the anorak was part of the women's collection, but it was in his size, so he didn't really care. He was especially pleased with the calfskin ankle boots that Minho was currently holding.

"I'm gonna order us room service," Minho said, hanging up the clothes Hyunjin was given into the closet. It wasn't the first time Hyunjin had received such expensive gifts from brands he modeled for, but Minho always hung them up carefully until they flew back home. Then, they went to live in Hyunjin's closet until he either donated them or one of his friends came to steal them. "What do you want?"

"Egg white omelette," Hyunjin replied, "and avocado, if they have it."

"Hmm." Minho's eyes scanned the menu and he pursed his lips. "Yeah, they do. I'm getting you smoked salmon, too, and I expect you to eat all of it."

"Okay, okay," Hyunjin relented easily. He didn't feel like arguing with Minho today. He was in a surprisingly good mood, and he tried to chalk it up to being excited for fashion week, but really it had to do with the guy from the plane and cafe. He didn't know what it was about him, but for some reason his compliments stuck in Hyunjin's mind. Maybe because they were so genuine, or maybe because it seemed like the guy didn't mean to say it, but just couldn't keep it in. Hyunjin rarely met people who didn't have ulterior motives when they complimented him. They either wanted to hook up or wanted him to hook them up with someone in the industry.

"So what did you do today? Sorry I couldn't go out with you," Minho said. Hyunjin flopped down on his own bed, uncaring that he was rumpling his expensive shirt.

"Nah, it's okay. I just walked around a bit and went to a cafe."

"Meet anyone interesting?" Hyunjin's breath caught in his throat and for a second, he wondered if Minho could read his mind. But when he looked over, Minho wasn't even paying full attention, scrolling on his phone.

"Nope. Same old, same old," Hyunjin replied, keeping his voice steady. He didn't want to admit that he was infatuated with some guy he bumped into twice -- it'd be weird and also embarrassing. Minho would never let him live it down. "Why would it be any different?"

Minho hummed, rolling onto his stomach and stretching like a cat. "Who knows. It's the city of love, isn't it? And if anyone deserves love, it's you."

"I have all the love I need." Hyunjin rolled his eyes and put in his AirPods, fully prepared to ignore Minho until their food came. He put on his favorite playlist and opened up Twitter, checking the tags for fashion week before navigating to Instagram and repeating the process. Bored, he watched a few stories from his friends, pausing on a book recommendation posted by Minho's boyfriend. _Yellow Coat, Red Umbrella._ He was pretty sure it was the one that Minho had been talking about at the airport. He went to the book store on iBooks and searched up the name. The cover of the book had a drawing of a boy in a yellow coat bending over to pet a cat. After a moment of contemplation, Hyunjin bought it without even reading the summary. He trusted Minho's taste, and Chan's. If they both liked this book, it must be decent enough.

He opened it up and began to read. _It always rained in Mapleville, but Haechan never minded the rain. Not when it emptied the streets and beat a steady rhythm against the pavement that matched the thrumming under his skin..._

"Hyunjin. Hyunjin!" He paused his music with a start, looking up at Minho who was holding a tray of food that was presumably Hyunjin's dinner.

"Sorry, I had my music pretty loud," Hyunjin said, taking out his AirPods and putting them back in their case before reaching for his food. He didn't have much of an appetite, but Minho would be grumpy if he didn't finish it all.

"It's okay. What were you doing anyway?"

Hyunjin hesitated; he knew that if he mentioned that he was reading a book, Minho would want to talk about it. Normally, Hyunjin would happily indulge his bookworm of a friend but tonight, he wasn't really feeling up to it.

"Just scrolling through Instagram. The usual," Hyunjin replied with a shrug, picking up his fork and knife. He sliced his omelette into pieces and forked one into his mouth. The taste was okay, which was enough for Hyunjin to continue until he had finished it all. Minho looked so pleased that he ate his whole dinner that Hyunjin even reached for a bite of salmon, though he couldn't finish the whole thing.

"I'm glad that you ate. You're gonna be working a lot this week, so this is the only time you'll be able to have a proper meal. Make sure you get some rest, okay? We've got an early start tomorrow." Hyunjin paused in the middle of applying his sheet mask, suddenly hit with how grateful he was to have Minho here with him. Even though he was only two years older, sometimes Hyunjin thought that he might have died if he didn't have Minho by his side. He felt guilty for being difficult, but he quickly shook it off. Minho had been his friend for their entire lives -- if he hadn't left by now, he would never leave, and that was something Hyunjin could count on.

He finished up the rest of his skincare routine while Minho got ready for bed. By the time he was brushing his teeth, Minho had already passed out, half his body sticking out from the covers. Hyunjin rolled his eyes, but he tiptoed to Minho's bed and adjusted the blanket until it covered Minho completely.

"Thanks for being here," he whispered, and Minho snored in response. Hyunjin laughed quietly and slid under the covers of his own bed. He set his alarms, though he knew he would sleep through them and Minho would have to wake him up.

He fell asleep with the first chapter of _Yellow Coat, Red Umbrella_ running through his head.

_MARK._

Mark woke up in time for the free breakfast and he did not regret it. He didn't know if his company had splurged for a fancy hotel or if this hotel was just really great, but the crepes and fresh fruit and sausages were only beat by the freshly squeezed orange juice. He felt a little bit lonely, eating by himself, but the feeling dissipated when he had his first bite.

He went out once he had finished eating, roaming the streets and stopping in every shop that interested him. He purchased way too many trinkets, and a few accessories that he thought Donghyuck would like, then stopped in a tiny rundown restaurant for lunch. He wrote the second chapter for his book while sitting in the park, and then shopped some more before finding a place to have dinner. He didn't really meet anyone, but he did have a good time, and he felt more relaxed than he had in ages.

By the time he headed back to the hotel, it was already late. Later than he planned to be out, but he had accidentally found a night market and then got lost on his way back to the hotel. He yawned as he wandered through the lobby, waiting patiently for the elevator and stepping in when it arrived.

"Hold the doors, please!" Someone called, and luckily Mark was aware enough to jam his finger into the open door button instead of letting it shut and dwelling on it for the rest of the night. He didn't pay attention when the first person slipped in, but when the second one did, he froze. It was Airplane Guy _again,_ dressed in an all black ensemble and his hair swept off his face.

He wondered if Airplane Guy might say something, his heart pounding. He hoped he wouldn't be accused of stalking. He should have never come to Paris. But Airplane Guy's gaze slid over his face like he wasn't even there, and Mark almost laughed at himself. Why would someone like _that_ remember _him?_ The guy he was with was probably his boyfriend. Mark was just being stupid and fantasizing about someone he could never have. Maybe he read too many romance novels.

The elevator stopped on the other guys’ floor, and Airplane Guy’s friend stepped out first. Airplane Guy followed, tripping over the crack. He would have face planted had his friend not caught him.

“Jesus, Hyunjin, be careful!” The friend said just as the doors slid closed.

Mark stared blankly at the buttons while the elevator travelled up to his floor. He finally had a name for Airplane Guy.

_Hyunjin._

_HYUNJIN._

The guy from the plane and the cafe was _here._ As in, staying at the same hotel. Hyunjin wondered who he was as hot water pounded at his scalp and back. His hundred dollar shampoo smelled like shit, but made his hair silky and more importantly, kept it healthy. Maybe that guy really was a model, or perhaps he worked for one? Or he could be part of a press team.

There was a knock on the door. "Hyunjinnie, are you almost done?"

"Mm, not really. Do you need to pee or something?" Hyunjin called back.

"Just wanted to know what you wanted for dinner."

Hyunjin's stomach churned at the thought of eating right now. He hadn't met his calorie goal for today, but his appetite was dwindling and eating would surely make him sick. He hated when his stomach got like this -- especially when he knew he had a full schedule tomorrow and would need the energy. Still, getting sick was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Any chance you'll let me get away with something small if I eat a big breakfast tomorrow?" He shouted over the water, switching it off to reach for his body wash. Minho went silent, which Hyunjin took as a yes and finished the rest of his shower in peace. He stepped out of the bath feeling both brand new and decades old, his knees and back aching from the final fitting and dress rehearsals he had today.

"I got you salad and a yogurt cup," Minho said when he came out of the bathroom dressed in a robe. "Make sure you eat all of it, okay?"

"Okay, okay." Hyunjin grinned when Minho gave him a warning look, collapsing on his bed and groaning at the chance to finally get rest. He sat up properly to eat his salad, something with chicken and a light dressing that he didn't feel bad about eating. He opened his phone to read the next chapter of _Yellow Coat, Red Umbrella._ He was beginning to realize that he felt a lot like Haechan, a famous singer whose life was blurring together until each day become unidentifiable from the next. The story followed Haechan as he finished up a tour and felt empty. Like he had lost his love for music. So he had gone on hiatus and relearned simplicity, living in a village where it rained all the time and nobody knew who he was.

 _Being unknown doesn't sound so bad,_ Hyunjin mused. He was surprised when he went for another bite of his salad and found the bowl empty. He didn't think he'd be able to finish the whole thing, but he was so engrossed in the novel that he hadn't noticed eating it all. When he looked up, he made eye contact with Minho who smiled and passed him a yogurt cup with granola and berries.

"What's got you so invested?" Minho asked when Hyunjin opened the yogurt. "I've never seen you concentrate on something for so long."

Hyunjin figured the gig was up. "I've been reading that book you were talking about at the airport. _Yellow Coat, Red Umbrella._ "

Minho looked amused. "I didn't think you were listening."

"I wasn't, really," Hyunjin admitted sheepishly, "but I saw Chan recommending it on his Instagram story and remembered the title."

"Brat," Minho chided, but he wasn't serious. "So, what do you think?"

"I really like it, actually. I wasn't expecting it to be so good, but I'm super invested. It's a lot more…lighthearted than I expected," Hyunjin said, scooping up another bite of yogurt. The berries were sweet and the granola was tastier than he expected. His stomach didn't even feel queasy.

"Yeah, I'm actually a pretty big fan of the author. He only has, like, four books out, but I've bought copies of all of them. I'm not as big of a fan as Chan, though. He's totally obsessed and follows the author's blog and all his social media."

Hyunjin cracked a smile. "Yeah, that sounds like Chan. How is he by the way?"

"He says he misses me already, but I bet he hasn't even noticed I'm gone. He's been busy working on some guy's debut album." Minho looked so fond, and Hyunjin felt that familiar guilt wash over him for taking him away from his boyfriend. "I just hope he isn't crashing at the studio again."

"We're here for two more weeks, right? Maybe he can come next weekend. He could leave early on Friday and fly out again on Sunday. I'll pay for his ticket," Hyunjin offered.

Minho lit up. "I'll ask him right now! I bet he'd say yes. We can spend the weekend together, the three of us."

Hyunjin snorted. "No way am I third wheeling you two lovebirds."

"But..." Minho's brows furrowed. "Won't you be lonely?"

“I can survive a weekend on my own,” Hyunjin said, not bothering to disguise his eye roll. “Seriously, I’ll be fine,” he added when Minho didn’t look convinced. “I’ll just hang out with one of my model friends. Or maybe catch up on sleep.”

“You’re just gonna hide in our hotel room, aren’t you,” Minho accused, but he looked pleased. “Okay, then I’ll ask him. Thanks, Hyunjinnie.”

Hyunjin shrugged. “Like I’d get between you and a weekend date in the city of love. Besides, you need a break too. You work too hard.”

“Pot, kettle,” was all Minho said in reply. Hyunjin finished off his yogurt cup and threw out the trash before settling back against the pillows to read a bit more. He finished the next chapter and stopped to do his nightly skincare routine. Minho had already fallen asleep, so he tried his best to be quiet. But when he slipped under the covers, he found he was wide awake.

After twenty minutes of tossing and turning, he gave up on falling asleep. He could feel the buzz under his skin that meant he probably wasn’t going to get tired any time soon, despite the exhausting events from today. And even though Hyunjin knew he had an early start, he grabbed his phone, wallet, and keycard, changed into a proper outfit, and slipped outside as silently as possible, shutting the door behind him.

He wandered through the hotel, and although the place was fancy and brightly lit, it was still sort of eerie, how empty and silent it was. He ended up going down to the first floor where the twenty four hour bar and restaurant was located. Hyunjin got distracted by the pretty display of lights on the ceiling, arranged to look like constellations, and when he looked down, he made eye contact with The Guy. The one from the plane, and the cafe, and the elevator. He was sitting at the table closest to the doors, all by himself.

 _Third time’s a charm. Fourth must be fate,_ he thought to himself, then took a deep breath and walked over.

“I swear I’m not stalking you,” the guy said when Hyunjin approached.

Hyunjin blinked. “Er, I know? I mean… you were here first.”

He relished in the way the guy’s entire face turned tomato red. “Sorry, it’s just… we keep bumping into each other, and after the cafe incident, I was worried you would find me creepy.”

“You mean when you called me pretty?” Hyunjin teased, startling himself. Where did that come from? He wasn’t usually so confident, but maybe the exhaustion helped him to be less afraid. “Anyway, I’m Hyunjin. I figured if we’re gonna keep bumping into each other like this, I should introduce myself.”

“I’m Mark,” the guy said, and he gave an adorable little half-smile. “Do you maybe wanna sit down?”

He shouldn’t. He really, really shouldn’t. He had to be up early, and it was such a bad idea considering he already thought about Mark often from short encounters. Mark was a distraction, something Hyunjin couldn’t afford.

And yet, he sat down anyway.

_MARK._

Hyunjin was something else.

They started out talking about normal things, like what they were both doing here so late instead of sleeping. Mark was still messed up from jet lag, and Hyunjin just wasn’t able to sleep. But suddenly, Mark found himself arguing over the best webtoon of 2020. The conversation derailed into talking about their friends. Mark told him about Donghyuck, and Johnny. Hyunjin told him about his manager and best friend, Minho, who was with him earlier in the elevator.

“I’m a writer,” Mark said when Hyunjin asked him about his career.

“I’m a model,” Hyunjin replied, and Mark liked the way he said it. It wasn’t a brag, or a flex. Simply a fact of life. Hyunjin had a dog, he liked waterparks, and he was a model.

“I’m writing a book about a model,” Mark confessed, “but I’m a little bit stuck.”

“Well if you need any help, you can always ask me,” Hyunjin offered with a small, dazzling smile. Mark got distracted by the way he tucked his hair behind his ear, and almost didn’t notice his eyes bugging out. “Oh, shit, it’s nearly two in the morning. I should probably get going.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course! I’m sorry for keeping you,” Mark babbled, face flushing as Hyunjin stood up. “It was really nice talking to you.”

“You too,” Hyunjin replied before taking off. Mark watched him go dejectedly -- the longest conversation he’s had since he arrived in Paris, and it had to end because of time. He hoped he would see Hyunjin again.

He wasn’t expecting Hyunjin to come barreling back in only a couple minutes later, looking breathless. “Here.”

Mark was surprised when Hyunjin handed him his phone, but realization dawned on him when he saw the ‘New Contact’ page open. Beaming, he typed in his number.

“Thanks,” Hyunjin said once he gave his phone back, smiling so brilliantly that Mark was rendered speechless. “Okay, now I really have to go.”

“Goodnight,” Mark managed to say just before Hyunjin turned around. He reached for his water giddily, trying not to smile as he took a sip through his straw.

Maybe coming to Paris wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.

He hoped that Hyunjin would actually text him. He wished he sent himself a text so he had Hyunjin’s number too, but he didn’t want to keep him, not when he knew that Hyunjin had a crazy schedule in the upcoming week.

He should probably actually go to a show or something himself. After paying his bill, he went back to his room and took out his laptop, looking for tickets. It wouldn’t make sense for him to write a story about models and not witness them in action. But if he was honest, the thought of going alone made him nervous. He wished that he had dragged Donghyuck along, but it wouldn’t be fair to take him away from his own life and job just because Mark couldn’t get a grip.

Speaking of Donghyuck, when Mark checked his Twitter, he found a message from him sitting in his inbox.

**@donghyucklee**

_marklyyy how’s it going r u alive_

Mark smiled and, after glancing at the time, called Donghyuck, who picked up after only two rings and immediately scolded him for being awake. It only took a few seconds before his lecture deteriorated into giggles.

“How is the writing going?”

“Not too bad. I have, like, two chapters done and I’ve almost finished the outline,” Mark replied. “I think I’m going about this all out of order.”

“Sometimes you don’t know what’s going to happen until you start writing the story,” Donghyuck said breezily. “Doesn’t mean it’s wrong. You might even end up changing the outline halfway through.”

“You’re right. Anyway, what are you doing right now?”

“Just finished with rehearsal. Going on tour and getting my degree is a pain in the ass. I know at least two of my professors don’t like me.”

“You’re a delight, Hyuckie,” Mark teased.

“You bet your ass I am. You should be grateful to have a friend like me. Anyway, why are you calling me when you should be sleeping?”

Mark hesitated, then, “I met someone.”

A gasp came through the speaker, so loud that Mark winced. “Mark Lee! What the fuck?!”

“Shh,” Mark hushed him. “It’s not like that. We just kept running into each other. He’s a model and he offered to answer some questions for my novel.”

“Shut up! I can’t believe you actually met a model! Wait, is he like a _model_ model? Or like a Sugar Bear Hair Instagram model?”

“I have no idea what that means,” Mark admitted, bewildered. “I think he’s a _model_ model, though. He said he’s walking in a show.”

“ _Walking?_ For who? Do you know?” Donghyuck demanded.

Mark sighed. “No, I don’t.”

“So you know nothing about this guy.” Mark wanted to reach through the phone and smack him. “How do you know he’s even gonna contact you?”

Mark’s phone dinged with a text.

**From: Unknown**

_hey it’s hyunjin_

_dude you met at the restaurant downstairs_

_i hope you haven’t forgotten me already_

Mark smirked. “He just did.”

“What did he say?” Donghyuck practically shrieked.

“He just said his name and that he hopes I haven’t forgotten him already,” Mark explained, his lips twitching into a smile. Donghyuck’s excitement was contagious.

“Oh my god, dude, he’s totally flirting with you!” Donghyuck said. “Tell him he’s unforgettable!”

Mark startled. “What? Why?”

“You have to flirt with him back! Otherwise he might think you’re not interested!”

“I don’t even know if I’m interested!” Mark shot back.”

“Mark Lee, this is the first time you’ve met someone and actually told me about it in _years._ You’re interested, and I’ll kill you if you don’t pursue him! Aren’t you there for new experiences?!”

“Fine,” Mark groaned. “But if this goes wrong, I’m blaming you.”

“I’ll happily accept the blame,” Donghyuck replied, sounding smug.

**To: hyunjin**

_you’re not easy to forget_

**From: hyunjin**

_ohoho you’re smoother behind a screen_

“What’d he say? Mark, what’d he say?”

**To: hyunjin**

_is that a bad thing?_

**From: hyunjin**

_hmm i’ll get back to you on that later_

_but for now i have a show to get ready for_

“Mark Lee, are you seriously ignoring me? After all we’ve been through?”

**To: hyunjin**

_have you slept?_

“Hey, answer me! I’m too busy on tour for flirting, I need to live vicariously through you!

**From: hyunjin**

_models don’t need sleep_

_we’ve already got all the beauty_

**To: hyunjin**

_well i won’t deny that_

_but still you should rest_

**From: hyunjin**

_no rest for the wicked :(_

_later, mark_

**To: hyunjin**

_good luck today_

Mark waited to see if he’d get a response, but after a couple minutes, he figured that Hyunjin probably needed to get ready for the day. When he looked at the clock, it was only four in the morning, and he wondered just how long a model’s day was.

“Mark? Hellooooo. MARK!”

Mark jumped when Donghyuck screamed into the phone, clutching his chest. “Jesus! _What?_ ”

“Stop ignoring me!” And Mark could practically _hear_ him pout. “I wanna know how it’s going with your model!”

He grinned despite himself. “I think it’s going okay. I mean, like, he was _definitely_ flirting.”

“Did you flirt back? Please tell me you flirted back.”

Mark smiled and rolled over. “Goodnight, Donghyuck.”

“Mark Lee you better not hang up the phone—“ _beep._ Silence had never sounded so sweet. He switched his phone to Do Not Disturb so Donghyuck wouldn’t blow it up with angry texts and got up to get ready for bed.

When he woke up at noon later that day, he found a text waiting for him from Hyunjin, sent at 7:03 am.

**From: hyunjin**

_thank you_ ❤️

_HYUNJIN_.

“I can’t feel my legs,” Hyunjin mumbled but in the chaos that was backstage, he wasn’t sure if anyone heard him. After several dress rehearsals and last minute adjustments and walking and posing and getting his makeup retouched, Hyunjin was trembling with exhaustion. He hadn’t been allowed to sit at all, and he still hadn’t been changed, so he couldn’t until one of the stylists from Dior came to collect his outfits.

By the time he had gotten undressed and his clothing was put away in garment bags, he was shaking. Minho came to collect him, helping him change into normal clothing and practically carrying him to the cab, shouldering his weight.

“I think I need a bath,” Hyunjin admitted once they started back to the hotel. Minho was wearing that frown again, the one he always wore whenever Hyunjin was being overworked.

“I’ll run you one,” Minho murmured. “I’ll get a masseuse to come up to our room and massage your legs and back.”

“That’s not necessary,” Hyunjin told him, but Minho wasn’t listening, apparently having taken a call through his Bluetooth earpiece without Hyunjin noticing.

He was arguing with someone on the other end of the line, but Hyunjin tuned him out in favor of staring out the window. So much of Paris that he hadn’t seen, but was too exhausted to explore.

He checked his phone and found that he had a text from Mark, sent almost half an hour ago.

**From: Mark (Writer)**

_is it later yet? :)_

That was it. He hadn’t sent anything else, probably guessing that Hyunjin was busy, but for some reason it made Hyunjin happy that someone was waiting for him and it wasn’t just his manager.

**To: Mark (Writer)**

_finally done._

_on my way back to the hotel need a bath and some sleep 😴_

It only took a minute before Mark’s reply came in. Hyunjin smiled at his phone.

**From: Mark (Writer)**

_no way you just finished?_

_you must be exhausted_

_have you eaten yet?_

**To: Mark (Writer)**

_haven’t had the time :(_

He watched as the typing bubble appeared and disappeared over and over, though by the time the taxi had pulled up to the hotel, he still hadn’t gotten a text back, though the typing bubble was still there. Hyunjin had to stifle a laugh in the elevator, and Minho gave him a weird look when he snorted.

“What’s so funny?” Minho asked.

“Meme,” Hyunjin lied, then jogged out of the elevator before Minho could ask to see it. He nearly fell flat on his face when his knees buckled, but he managed to catch himself on the doorknob for their room just in time.

“Be careful,” Minho scolded, letting them into their room. Hyunjin immediately collapsed on the bed, for once not caring about getting anything on the sheets. “I’ll go run you a bath.”

“Thanks,” Hyunjin mumbled without looking up. He rolled onto his back when his phone vibrated, and found a text from Mark.

**From: Mark (Writer)**

_would you maybe want to get dinner?_

_no pressure though_

_i know you’re probably tired._

Hyunjin dropped his phone and closed his eyes. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to get dinner with Mark. Once upon a time, he would have jumped at the chance to go out with any good looking guy for a night. But he was worried that Mark would have some kind of ulterior motive, and he didn’t want any part of that.

 _Just say yes,_ Hyunjin reasoned with himself, _and if he tries anything weird, punch him in the throat and run away._

Resolved, Hyunjin texted Mark back.

**To: Mark (Writer)**

_i’d be down, but i really need a bath first_

_and i’d like to stick close the hotel if you don’t mind_

**From: Mark (Writer)**

_of course! we could just go to the hotel restaurant if you want_

**To: Mark (Writer)**

_that sounds great_

“Bath’s ready.” Hyunjin abandoned his phone in favor of stripping as quickly as his sore limbs would allow him to, rushing into the bathroom to sink into the giant bathtub. Minho had filled it with an orange-and-peony scented bubble bath, and the hot water felt great for his muscles. “Don’t drown in there!”

“I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Hyunjin yelled back, and he could hear Minho’s snickering from the other room. He sank against the back of the tub, careful not to get his hair and face wet. He was too tired to redo his makeup and hairstyle, but there was no way he was gonna meet up with Mark looking like a mess.

Minho came in about ten minutes later, just as the water was beginning to cool. He had his hair pushed back with a terry cloth cat ears headband, and he was in the process of removing his makeup with a cotton round.

“I’m getting dinner with a friend,” Hyunjin said, and watched as Minho paused in the middle of his routine to stare at Hyunjin. “What?”

“Nothing. It’s just… didn’t you say you were tired?” Minho asked, and it took Hyunjin a second to realize that Minho was concerned.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Hyunjin assured him. “We’re just going to the hotel’s restaurant. You’re always complaining about how I need to eat more.”

“That I do,” Minho hummed, finally returning to the task at hand. “Be safe, okay? And don’t stay up too late. You have—“

“An early schedule tomorrow,” Hyunjin finished. “I know, I always do.”

“Oh, by the way. LVMH is currently in the process of acquiring Tiffany & Co. They’re asking for you as a brand ambassador. I have a legal team looking over the contract but of course, you get final say.”

Hyunjin hummed. “Do you think it’s a good deal?”

“I think it’s a great deal.” Minho didn’t say that often.

“Do I get to keep the pieces?”

Minho laughed. “Yes, Hyunjinnie, you get to keep the pieces.”

Hyunjin considered this. “Then, sure.”

“Okay. We’ll set up a proper meeting once the hype of Fashion Week dies down. You’re gonna need to look over the contract, too. They have a lot they want you to do.”

“They always do,” Hyunjin said with a sigh, then heaved himself out of the bathtub before his skin could get wrinkly. Minho came over to help him drain and rinse the tub, so he dried off and wandered into their room to get dressed. He stared at his clothes helplessly. “Min!”

“What?!” Minho yelled from the bathroom, appearing in the doorway with his face still dripping with water.

Hyunjin pouted at him. “I don’t know what to wear.”

“Hwang Hyunjin!” Minho shouted, pointing a finger at him. “Is this a date? You have a date and you didn’t tell me?”

“Not exactly,” Hyunjin said meekly. “He said he’s a writer and he’s writing a book about a model, so he wants to interview me.”

Minho pursed his lips, looking dejected. “Well, is he hot at least?”

Hyunjin felt his cheeks heat up. “...yeah. He’s really hot.”

“Ooh, okay, I gotcha.” Minho immediately began rummaging through Hyunjin’s clothes, carefully considering each piece. This was why Hyunjin loved him.

They settled on grey, plaid trousers and a black button up over a thin white turtleneck and Hyunjin’s favorite pair of black combat boots. Minho helped him touch up his eyeliner and gave him a tube of clear lip gloss that Hyunjin pocketed with flushed cheeks.

“Go get that dick, baby,” Minho said once Hyunjin had texted Mark, patting him on the ass.

“It’s not like that!” Hyunjin protested, but Minho was already shoving him out the door, claiming he was going to call Chan before slamming the door in Hyunjin’s face. “I hate him.”

He got a text from Mark saying he was already downstairs, and he smiled all the way down, only managing to school his face into something more neutral when the elevator reached the ground floor.

It was easy to spot Mark who was sitting at a table right in front of the door. It looked like he was chatting with a waiter, and Hyunjin softened when he caught them both laughing. Mark was wearing a brown wool sweater layered over a white button up, and he was wearing gold wire-framed glasses. He had his hair styled off his forehead, and Hyunjin was pleased to know he wasn’t the only one to put effort into his appearance.

There was something about Mark that made him more attractive than most of the models Hyunjin had met. Maybe it was his wide eyes, his sharp jawline, or his chiseled cheekbones. Or maybe it was the way his smile took over his whole face when he caught sight of Hyunjin approaching the table.

“Hey!” Mark said brightly as Hyunjin hovered awkwardly behind the chair before thinking _fuck it_ and sitting down.

“Hi,” Hyunjin said back, unsure of what else to say, but lucky for him, Mark took charge of the conversation. Apparently before he had gotten here, Mark had asked about what meals the restaurant served that were fit for a model’s diet. Hyunjin was touched.

While models tended to be egocentric and narcissistic (he would know, he was the same), he had to admit that interacting with people outside of the industry exhausted him. It was either _why do you have to diet? You’re already skinny_ or _so you’re starving yourself?_ because apparently, once you stepped in front of the camera, your business became everyone’s business. It was uncomfortable, and tiring. But it felt like Mark was trying to be supportive, and that meant more than he would ever know.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” The waiter asked.

“Just water, please. No ice,” Hyunjin requested.

“Water is fine,” Mark agreed, and the waiter disappeared, leaving them to their menus.

“So, which dishes did he recommend?” Hyunjin asked, and Mark lit up, animatedly explaining the menu. Hyunjin cupped his cheek in his hand, propping his elbow on his table, content to just listen. He decided on the Mexican steak salad, and Mark went with a creamy shrimp pasta dish.

Once the waiter had taken their menus, they fell into an awkward silence. Hyunjin had been confident through texts, but it was easier behind a screen. Everyone found it hard to believe that a model could be shy, but truthfully Hyunjin just found it easier to use a persona, and he didn’t want to pretend around Mark.

“So, um.” His voice came out hoarse, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “How is your book going?”

“It’s going pretty great, actually! I’ve been doing a lot of research, but I’m hoping to see a show or two in order to really get a feel for what it’s like to be a model.”

“I could get you a ticket,” Hyunjin said, then winced. He sounded almost _too_ eager.

Mark’s eyes lit up. “Really? God, that’d be _awesome_. I’d owe you my life!”

Hyunjin shrugged nonchalantly, but he was secretly pleased. “Yeah, I mean—it’d have to be for my show, I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course that’s okay!” Mark said, flapping his hands around in what Hyunjin guessed was excitement, but made him look like a clumsy bird. “I know, like, nothing about fashion though.”

“Neither do I,” Hyunjin said, and it was partially the truth. He knew, but he just didn’t care. It wasn’t his job to care, it was Minho’s. He dressed him for everything, whether it was dates or conferences or parties, and Hyunjin trusted him to make him look good. “Most people don’t. It’s like wine tasting, all you have to do is sound pretentious and people will believe that you’re into fashion.”

“So is that what you do? Pretend?”

Hyunjin had to hold back an ugly snort. “Of course. I pretend all the time. But…” he placed his hand on top of Mark’s resting on the table “...I’m not pretending right now.”

The smile that Mark gave him was nothing short of brilliant.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! if you don't mind, let me know what you thought in the comments or in my curious cat, and feel free to follow me on twitter! both are linked below <3
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/jaemarking)  
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